


Sleepover

by justdk



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emetophobia, Food, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic, Sleepovers, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 15:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: Neil's excited and nervous about an impromptu sleepover at Andrew's house





	Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> To answer an anonymous prompt for Andreil + emetophobia (fear of throwing up). Another anon added onto the prompt: neil + emetophobia after nightmares? in a hs au maybe? This may not be what either of y’all wanted but I tried my best!
> 
> I’m setting this prompt in a high school AU I’ve been writing (It’s Always You). In this AU Neil is a senior at Andrew’s old high school in Columbia and Andrew is a freshman at PSU. They meet, become friends, and slowly their relationship becomes something more. At this point in the AU Andrew doesn’t know Neil’s situation/past though he has some suspicions that Neil’s story isn’t on the level.
> 
> TW: food, nightmares, panic, emetophobia

Andrew picks Neil up early in the morning and drives him up to the PSU campus. They talk the entire ride and Neil loves every second of having Andrew all to himself. Due to their circumstances they rarely have alone time and Neil craves it. Maybe it’s because he’s been on his own for so long, squatting in the empty two-story with only random stray cats for company. Andrew barely gets to say a word during the first part of the trip while Neil fills him in on the latest drama with his team and how his classes are going but then Neil is bombarding him with questions and Andrew answers them all, occasionally reaching over to touch Neil’s cheek or thigh, like he can’t believe Neil’s really there.

They stop briefly at Fox Tower to pick up Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron. Andrew drives them over to the house belonging to the team physician. Neil hangs back as the others crowd into the small house, filling the spaces with loud conversation and laughter. He feels like he’s intruding. He isn’t on the team, he’s basically a stranger, but Andrew’s assured him that Abby, the physician, won’t mind him coming to Thanksgiving dinner.

It’s actually great. Coach Wymack shakes his hand, talks to him about how his team is performing, and even mentions that he’s going to try to make it to the upcoming home game. Andrew rolls his eyes at Neil’s excitement, but he also squeezes his hand to show that he doesn’t really mean it. Andrew and Kevin have started coming to the high school’s Saturday home games and it always makes Neil’s heart pound to see them standing in crowd, rooting for him.

Preparing the meal is barely controlled chaos but they pull it all together and by the time they’re seated Neil feels overwhelmed by the amount of food spread on the table. He takes small portions of each dish, enough to cover his plate. It’s practically nothing compared to the mounds of food on the others’ plates but Neil still feels like it’s too much. It’s not like he’s starving; he gets two free meals at school and eats with Carson’s family a couple times a week. But he’s never had a large appetite and crashing in a house without a fridge means he doesn’t have much food lying around.

Abby encourages him to eat more but Neil can barely finish the food he has. Then Kevin starts on a long rant about the ideal diet for athletes until Andrew tells him to shut up. Neil bumps his knee against Andrew’s and is pleased when Andrew reaches down and squeezes his knee.

After eating the enormous meal there’s still dessert. Neil’s already feeling queasy so he only manages a bite of his pumpkin pie before sneaking the rest to Andrew. Thankfully Andrew doesn’t bug him about it; he’s good like that, somehow knowing when he should press an issue and when he shouldn’t.

Wymack harasses the others into watching whatever game is on but Andrew and Neil go for a walk instead. They stroll around Abby’s idyllic neighborhood, sharing cigarettes and occasionally holding hands. There’s a park nearby, surprisingly empty, and they sit on the swings, Andrew facing towards the playground, Neil facing towards the road. They talk about past Thanksgivings, Neil skirting over a lot of details, making up something that’s palatable. He trusts Andrew, more than anyone, even Carson, but he doesn’t feel ready to tell him the Nathaniel story. Maybe he’ll never have to.

They kiss behind the slide, Andrew’s warm hands cupping Neil’s chilled face. Andrew tastes like cigarettes and pie. Neil curls his hands carefully, keeping still for Andrew. It’s slow and perfect. He loves the way Andrew touches him, like he means something, like he’s special.

Back at Abby’s they join the others for coffee and cookies. Neil declines the extra sweets but, at Abby’s insistence, he accepts a bag to take home. He passes up on taking leftovers, claiming that has a lot of food at home. Nicky’s more than happy to take what Abby offers since his lot will be in Columbia for the weekend.

“Less cooking for me!” Nicky says.

“You never cook,” Aaron replies.

Neil assumed that Andrew would take him home but he pulls Neil aside, taking him into Abby’s cluttered spare room.

“I was going to ask you earlier,” Andrew says, “but do you think you could spend the weekend with me?”

Neil’s a bit blindsided. He grips the side of the dresser to steady himself. A weekend with Andrew? In the same house? Would they… what was Andrew expecting would happen?

“You don’t have to,” Andrew says gruffly. “I should have asked you about it sooner. It’s a holiday and your family…”

“Isn’t here,” Neil reminds him. That’s the story he concocted, that his parents had to be away for work. “I can come but I don’t have my things.”

“We’ll stop and you can get them,” Andrew says like it’s not a big deal. But it _is_ a big deal.

“Yeah… uh, I hate to make you drive around so much but…” Neil squirms under Andrew’s gaze. _Shit_. Keeping this big secret, that he’s a homeless, family-less runaway, is so stressful. “Could you drop me off and come back to get me? I have some things to do before I can leave the house for the weekend.”

“Neil.” Andrew takes his hands. Neil didn’t realize that he was shaking until Andrew’s warm fingers wrap around his ice-cold hands. “You don’t have to come over, if you don’t want to.”

“I want to!” He says it so fiercely that Andrew pulls back. “I do,” he whispers, “I’m just a little nervous.”

“Oh.” Andrew rocks back on his heels, hands digging into his blond hair. Neil bites his lip, fingers tangling together anxiously. Andrew stares at him, taking in all of his tells. “ _Oh_. Neil.” He shakes his head slowly, his unruly hair falling across his forehead. “I’m not trying to get you into my bed. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Oh!” Neil’s relieved and also a little bit disappointed. He’s not ready for all that but it had felt kind of flattering thinking that Andrew was possibly thinking about it. “Right. Cool. Me too. I want to spend more time with you, too.”

Andrew laughs and pulls Neil into a hug, ruffling his hair. “You’re cute.”

“Hmmm.” Neil doesn’t protest, happy to have Andrew’s arms around him.

—–

Andrew’s house doesn’t stand out in his suburban neighborhood. The front lawn is a little unkempt and the house could stand some new paint but that seems par for the course in this particular neighborhood. The car definitely stands out, expensive and gleaming.

Neil follows Andrew into the house, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. It had pained him to leave his binder at the empty house but he had taken care to hide it under the floorboards. It would be fine, he tells himself again as he trails Andrew.

Andrew doesn’t bother to give him a tour, just leads him upstairs, pushing the door to one of the bedrooms open.

“This is my room,” Andrew says. He stays close to the door and watches as Neil looks around. The room is a pretty sparse, lacking the posters and mess of Carson’s room. Neil holds onto his duffle until Andrew offers, “You can leave your bag in here, if you want.”

“Okay.” Neil sets it gingerly on the floor, at the foot of the bed. His heart’s pounding, hands sweating. He’s been in Andrew’s dorm room plenty of times but this feels different, intimate. The others are downstairs watching TV but it’s like they’re not even here. All Neil can think about is Andrew, being alone in Andrew’s room. “Um,” his voice is scratchy and he clears his throat. “How is this going to work? Am I sleeping in here, too?”

Andrew moves over to him but without crowding him. “That’s up to you. I can’t share a bed with anyone so I could sleep on the floor or one of the couches downstairs.”

“What? No!” Neil protests. “I can totally sleep on the floor. I’m used—I mean, this is your home, Andrew.”

Andrew gives him an odd look. “Yeah? And you’re my guest. You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

Neil can tell he’s not going to change Andrew’s mind. He’s still stuck on _guest_. Is that all he is? _Damn_. Carson was right; he and Andrew should have done a DTR after Halloween. What were they? Friends that sometimes made out?

“Fine.” Neil tries not to sound annoyed. “Will you stay, then? I would like it… if you stayed.”

Andrew nods. “Yeah. I’ll get the air mattress set up.” He turns to go but Neil grabs the cuff of his jacket, tugging him to a stop.

Andrew looks over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Yes?”

“I’m glad you asked me to stay. I want to be here with you, Andrew.”

Andrew’s cheeks flush light pink. He mumbles something about _stay_ and _be right back_ before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Neil feels like his head his is buzzing, or his ears are full of static, or something. His pulse is unsteady and he sits on the bed, feeling the mattress give. His stomach is tight, twisted, from nerves or all the food. Without thinking about it too much he lays back on the bed, arms stretched out before curling up on his side. That feels better. He digs his fingers into the comforter, barely able to believe that he’s here, in Andrew’s room, on his bed…

The door opens and Andrew walks in, toting the air mattress.

“You look comfy,” he says, dropping the mattress on the floor.

Neil nods, peeking up at Andrew. He can’t keep himself from smiling like an idiot. “Gonna join me?”

Andrew snorts and toes off his shoes. He settles next to Neil, lying on his side so that they’re facing each other, only inches apart. It makes Neil feel unbearably happy.

“Hey,” he breathes, grinning so hard his face hurts.

“Hi.” Andrew smiles back at him. His hazel eyes are warm and Neil feels like he’s melting, thawed out by Andrew’s intense regard.

Andrew scoots closer and the mattress creaks a little under their weight. Their knees and feet touch, and if Andrew would only lean in a tiny bit their noses would brush.

“Can I…?” Andrew holds his hand over Neil’s face.

“Yes.” He swallows the instinctive _please_ , knowing that Andrew doesn’t like it. There are other things that Andrew can’t tolerate, like being touched, so Neil keeps his hands balled up in the sleeves of his hoodie.

Andrew runs his fingers through Neil’s hair. His thumb brushes Neil’s ear, then his cheek and jaw. It feels so nice, the soft, steady caresses. Neil tilts his head, letting Andrew stroke under his chin and down his throat. Two fingers rest over his pulse point and Neil flushes, knowing Andrew can feel how hard his heart is beating. Neil locks eyes with Andrew and swallows, undone by the barely contained want in his gaze.

“Can I kiss you?” Andrew’s voice is low and rough, a whisper in this achingly quiet room.

“Yeah.” Neil wants to say more, do more, but this is enough.

Andrew kisses him carefully, like they have all the time in the world. It’s not urgent and messy like the time they had kissed at Eden’s but Neil still feels breathless. He kisses Andrew back, his body quivering with the need to move or touch. Staying still is killing him.

“Are you okay?” Andrew asks. He touches Neil’s side, feels him shivering.

“It’s difficult _not_ to move… like this,” Neil admits. “I keep wanting to touch you or press against you.” He bites his lower lip and gives Andrew a helpless look.

“I see.” Andrew sits up and for a brief moment Neil despairs but then Andrew’s hands are on his shoulders, rolling Neil onto his back. Andrew settles above him, holds Neil’s hands down. Their fingers lace together, Andrew squeezing and Neil squeezing back. “Better?”

“Yes.” Neil breathes easier. He likes having Andrew hold him down and that’s a surprise. Andrew’s warm, his body settling over Neil’s. This time when Andrew kisses him it’s with more abandon, hot and hungry. Neil tries to match him, feeding the fire smoldering between them. The kiss rages through him, making him feel things that he thought were impossible for him.

Andrew breaks away, gasping, pulling off Neil. He’s flushed and hazy eyed. Neil drinks in the sight, treasuring it.

“Damn, Neil,” Andrew rasps. He leans down to give Neil another lingering kiss. The next time he pulls back, he slides off the bed, looking unsteady for a moment. “Be right back,” he murmurs before ducking out of the room.

Neil groans softly. He feels like he’s sinking into the mattress, boneless and weak, overcome. He covers his eyes with his shaking hands and smiles. _Damn, indeed._

When Andrew comes back they head downstairs and join the others. Nicky teases them until Andrew threatens him into silence. Kevin makes them hush, worried about missing some important movie dialogue. Neil sits next to Andrew on the couch, snuggled up under his arm. He could care less about the World War II movie and soon drops off.

Neil wakes up when the movie’s over and everyone is splitting off to go to bed. He leans against Andrew, letting him haul him up the stairs. He takes his clothes into the bathroom and takes a shower and pulls on his sleep clothes, a pair of old sweatpants and a soft, long-sleeved shirt. He stares at his reflection in the foggy mirror, wondering what normal guys would be wearing or not wearing in his situation. Carson would know but Neil can’t text him, if he did Carson would never shut up about it.

Andrew has his makeshift bed set up on the floor. He’s lying on the air mattress, looking at a comic book. Neil recognizes the series but hasn’t read it yet. Maybe he can borrow them from Andrew.

Neil shuts the door softly and pads over, climbing into Andrew’s bed. Andrew looks up and gives him a small smile.

“Are you going to bed?” Neil asks. He’s feeling weirdly sluggish and tired, his eyelids heavy.

“I’m going to read for a bit, will the light bother you?”

Neil shakes his head. His eyes slide shut and he blinks them open with an effort.

Andrew laughs softly. “Go to sleep, Neil. You look like an adorable zombie.”

Neil grins. “As long as I’m adorable.” He lies down and tugs the covers up to his chin, sneakily inhaling Andrew’s scent. He feels so cozy that he wants to wiggle around. “G’night, Drew,” he murmurs.

“Night, Neil. See you in the morning.”

Neil’s under before he can say anything else.

—–

_Something’s not right._

_Blood trickles through his fingers, pulsing with every breath._

_Dull aches spread through his core like lava._

_Wrong. Wrong. Very wrong._

_Can’t breathe._

_Pain_. _It hurts. It hurts._

_Make it stop…_

“Neil!”

Neil jolts up, heart hammering, his stomach _screaming_ , the pain making his gasp.

“ _Ow_ ,” he whimpers, frantically pushing the covers away. He holds his stomach, fingers pressing over the scars, sure that he’ll feel blood and torn flesh instead.

“Fuck, Neil, what’s going on?” Andrew’s voice is tense but Neil can barely focus on him.

His heart is racing and he feels sick like he might… _ugh not here_. Neil gags, slapping his hands over his mouth. Andrew must understand because he grabs a trashcan, emptying it on the floor before shoving it in front of Neil.

“ _No, no_ ,” Neil moans, leaning over the plastic can. Acid burns the back of his throat. It’s worse than the nightmare and the pain churning in his guts. He swallows it back, grimacing.

Andrew’s hand is on his back, rubbing soothing circles. “It’s okay, Neil.”

 _It’s not okay_. Another wave of nausea grips Neil, making him shudder, his stomach roiling. He bites his lip until it bleeds. Tears slide down his face and he’s shaking and—

_Are you going to vomit, Nathaniel? Weak. You know what will happen if you throw up._

Neil cowers over the trashcan, eyes squeezed shut, fingers white-knuckled and aching from gripping the lip of the trashcan. He _won’t_ be sick. He hasn’t been sick since…

The memory of ripping skin and the taste of ash and smoke overtakes him. It’s never far from his thoughts but combined with the nightmare, the terror, everything…

His body betrays him. His inconstant, _weak_ body. Neil shakes as the entirety of his Thanksgiving dinner comes back up. He coughs, chokes, gags. It’s terrible.

Everything about it disgusts him and he’s crying harder, upset with himself.

“Neil, shhh. It’s fine. You’re fine.” Andrew wipes his mouth with tissues, eases the trashcan out of his hands. Neil only lets it go because he has nothing left inside. Andrew sets the can on the floor, out of sight, and hands Neil a half-full bottle of water. “Slow,” he murmurs, petting Neil’s sweat-damp hair. “Don’t gulp it.”

More tears trickle from Neil’s eyes and Andrew wipes them away. He sniffs and feels the burn of acid in his nose. _Gross. You’re a repulsive child._ His father’s voice echoes in his memories. Neil ducks his head, flinching, and Andrew jerks his hand away.

Neil can’t bear to look at him. But he can’t move either. He buries his head against his knees. The smell of his breath assaults him and he groans.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I made a mess. I’m really sorry.”

“No, you didn’t.” Andrew’s voice is calm. “I’ve witnessed messes, caused some, too. This isn’t a mess, Neil.”

Neil swallows hard. He needs to brush his teeth, wash his mouth out. Wash his hands, his body. He shivers and finally looks at Andrew.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not.” Andrew sits next to him looking worried but not grossed out. “Do you need anything? What can I do to help?”

Neil blinks. Andrew’s not mad? How?

“I… I’m going to get cleaned up. What do I do with your trashcan?” His cheeks burn with shame. Andrew’s never going to want him to come over again.

“I’ll take care of it. Do you need help getting up?”

Neil shakes his head. He moves slowly, crawling forwards and sliding off the bed. He wobbles but Andrew’s there, catching his elbow and steadying him.

“Thanks,” Neil whispers. He takes a shaky step, feeling light-headed. Andrew stays by his side until Neil gets to the bathroom. He lets Neil go and heads back into his room.

Neil locks the door strips off his clothes. There’s nothing on them but they feel dirty against his skin. He steps into the tub, turning the faucet to its hottest setting. The water hits his skin, scalding. It’s too hot but he doesn’t adjust the temperature. He stands there and takes it until he’s too tired and then he sinks to bottom of the tub, pulling his knees to his chest, bowing his head, and letting the water scrape him clean. He cries some more and digs his fingers into his skin. He keeps his eyes closed so he won’t see the scars.

Eventually the water cools and Neil turns it off. He’s aching and trembling. It’s stupid; he knows this. There’s no logical reason for him to feel this way. But knowing doesn’t make the damage go away.

It’s only after he’s dried off that Neil realizes he doesn’t have any clean clothes to put on. He stands there, staring at the tile floor, stymied. What’s he supposed to do now?

There’s a soft knock on the door. Neil flinches. His hand shakes as the reaches for the doorknob. He cracks the door open and peers out.

“I brought you some clothes,” Andrew whispers. Neil glances down and sees the bundle in his hands. “Want me to put them on the floor or hand them to you?”

“Umm.” Neil hesitates. “Can you close your eyes?”

Andrew does so immediately. Neil opens the door and takes the clothes from him. He shuts the bathroom door and unfolds the clothes. Andrew’s given him a pair of black sweatpants and his orange Palmetto State hoodie. Neil can hardly believe it. He pulls the hoodie to his chest, hugging it and breathing in Andrew’s scent. He just threw up in Andrew’s bed and still Andrew’s letting him wear his clothes…

Neil dresses and tiptoes back to Andrew’s room. He lingers in the doorway, looking in at Andrew. Andrew’s sitting cross-legged on the air mattress, a different comic book spread out before him. He turns the page and notices Neil watching him.

“Hey.” Andrew shuts the comic and sits up. “Feeling better?”

Neil nods, feeling beyond embarrassed and shy. “Thank you for… everything.”

“It was nothing.” Andrew pats the mattress. “C’mere.”

Neil shuffles forward. He kneels on the air mattress, poised for flight.

“You can relax,” Andrew says. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Did you have a bad dream?”

Neil nods and touches his stomach.

“I have nightmares, too,” Andrew tells him. His voice isn’t so calm anymore. “We all have demons, Neil. You don’t have to face yours alone.”

“I—” Neil chokes, can’t get the words out. He shakes his head, frustrated.

“Or you could lie down and I’ll tell you what’s happening in my comic.”

Neil doesn’t even have to think about. He curls up next to Andrew, head resting on one of Andrew’s pillows. Andrew strokes his wet hair and begins the tale. “This story is about Dream… he’s like a god. He’s been captured, imprisoned…” Neil listens until his eyes droop and the sentences lose shape. His mind clings to Andrew’s voice long after his eyes have closed.

This time he sleeps soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @dkafterdark


End file.
